On other days, they metaphorically crossed blades on other relatively mundane subjects like politics, cars, girls, celebrities, who eats the most etc.

One quick look at the noisy duo, who obviously have nothing but time on their hands, one could hastily conclude that Danny is the glutton of the two.

Don’t get me wrong; Danny is not the average obese fella you’d see on your way back from work on a Friday evening who spends most of his spare time stuffing his face with worthless, albeit expensive, bits of confection procured from the relatively over-priced Chicken Republic by the corner.
No!
He’s just one of those people who – no matter how much they stay off the carbs, work out or even starve themselves of food altogether – never seem to be able to go below the plus size.

With a waistline that slowly tends towards 42, and an incredibly conspicuous pot-belly that is an added 20% of his waistline, Danny looked to be perfect candidate for a six hour session with one of those doctors on Dr. 90210.

It is no surprise to all who are known to Danny that he, of all his friends, is most interested in the pleasures that can only be acquired in the subtle probing and prodding of the female folk. He has a certain predilection for buxom beauties. Buxom beauties who are always offended that Danny had the guts! The liver!! The effrontery!!! To accost them and voice his feelings. Danny, on the other hand, always returns dispirited and flabbergasted but not broken.
The fact that Danny never understood why his “chykees” were always so livid that he had the stones to chyke* them was a big surprise to his buddies.

I mean, how do you explain to your buddy that the girls he fancies aren’t offended that he chyked them, they are offended at the fact that hechyked them. How do you tell your bosom friend that girls aren’t exactly attracted to a guy with a face so formless, it reminds me of one of those Hollandia** custard thingies; neither do girls hold their breaths for a nose as bulbous as an onion.
No!
I don met a lot of crazy chicks in my time but not a one of them would pick Danny as a third choice boyfriend if Smeagol (or Gollum) or Bilbo Baggins were in the same line up and he (Smeagol or Bilbo) were half as smart, clean and opulent as Danny.

Although his money, book smarts and degree of chumminess with Toby (will explain later) helped with the ladies, his obesity and his nigh Quasi Modo looks threw a wedge in his chances.

The fact that Danny stood at just above 5’5”, and the added fact that on the brightest of days, Danny’s face shone as dark as night was just God’s way of saying:
‘Jacob I love, and Esau… well Esau can go fuck himself’.

And now, unto Jacob.

Contrasts

Toby, unlike his bff, is every woman’s dream. You know how in a unisex gathering of uniform or almost uniform social status, the girls tend to gravitate towards a guy or a group of guys and vice-versa; Toby is the core of the sun that is the gathering of guys around which a good majority of the girls orbit.

Toby, to simply put it, is a pretty boy who towered over his friend by 9” and has a well sculpted body that evoked the envy of other guys. It was not enough that he had golden skin, or a face so handsome that it bordered on beautiful; the All-creating Father still saw fit to bless him with an angelic smile.

Impeccably white teeth blissfully blended with slightly upturned and full lips that presents in a brief flash of heaven. Toby is one of those rare people with a smile so legendary that the mere sight of it forces a smile on the face of the recipient and/or a relatively moistened thigh (pending, of course, on the gender of said recipient).

Although Toby is known to be a great and relatively nice guy, he is much disliked by a lot of his male acquaintances. It is not because he is a Goliath among womanizers, which he is; nor is it because he is untrustworthy, because he just about as trustworthy as the next guy. The guys disliked him because they do not trust their girls around him.

Every now and again, you hear the tale of woman who confesses to her husband, amidst tears and sobs, of her infidelity. Always, she’d claim, ‘I don’t know what came over me; it was the work of the Devil’.

Well, in Toby’s case, the Devil is only responsible for one thing, pointing the girl in Toby’s direction. The rest is as easy as pie. One smile from Toby, and what resolve a girl has about her is melted instantly. After some 30 – 40 minutes, the girl is fully aware that Toby had scattered his seed all over her face or deep within the valley of her bosom.
His indiscriminate philandering angers a lot of people, except his best friend, Danny.

Danny is always quick to point out the hottest chicks in a room to Toby, always happy to leave the room so that his roomie can get some quality time with his female friends. Danny, however, is happiest when Toby does what he does best; taking these girls on a quick trip through Heartbreak Boulevard.

The unsuspecting girls pour out their hearts and souls to Danny who is always there with a shoulder to cry on, and a continuous supply Malibu mixed Chivita coconut juice.
Yes, Danny is one to bide his time, watch the signs and carefully orchestrate a Mission: Impossible (get the hottest girl in town to sleep with him) and pull it off with alarming ease. And like all good analysts, he knows when to walk away.

Toby, however, is a lover of challenges. He is scarcely intimidated and is rarely bothered. In fact, the only thing that actually bothers him is a girl that is unfazed by him or not attracted to him.

Why, you ask, do I tell you all these?

I do so that you may better understand the events that are to come. Events that will shake and nearly break a bond that took over five years to build. And if you think a girl to be the problem, then you are somewhat, if not entirely, correct.